


Something Like Absolution

by Xenobotanist



Series: Introspection [3]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Character Study, Dialogue-Only, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Ethical Dilemmas, Heavy Angst, M/M, Morality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:14:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28225212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xenobotanist/pseuds/Xenobotanist
Summary: Garak and Julian have a rough, occasionally dark, discussion regarding Garak's past.Garak explains why he's a terrible person, and Julian tries to convince him otherwise.NOT a fluff piece.
Relationships: Julian Bashir & Elim Garak, Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Series: Introspection [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1726831
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	Something Like Absolution

**Author's Note:**

> CW/TW: discussions of torture, rape, abuse, war crimes  
> DO NOT read this for fluff; there’s only a tiny blip at the end. This is a character study of Garak’s inner psyche, and it’s not all sunshine and rainbows, or in this case, orchids and lace (which could be an interesting title for a future fic).  
> This is the longest dialogue-only I’ve ever done, so I hope it’s readable. I hate putting names down to make it look like a script when it’s not meant to be one. It changes the whole feeling.  
> Set late in the series.

“Julian, I’m a monster.”

“My god, Garak, how can you say that?

“Because I _am_ , my dear. Born and raised, educated and trained. It’s in my blood, as you humans say.”

“No, there’s still a difference between nature and nurture. You may have been programmed to torture and kill, but that’s the software, not the hardware.”

“That still doesn’t change what I’ve already done. You have no idea what I’m capable of, nor half of the atrocities I’ve committed.”

“Of course I don’t. You won’t tell me.”

“I wouldn’t want to burden you.”

“ _Burden_ me? Elim, we’re in the middle of a war. I’ve seen death. I’ve _dealt_ death. I’ve been captured, interrogated, tortured. I’ve seen an atrocious disease ravage an entire planet because of its defiance to the Dominion. Do you know, of everyone here, I’m the only one who’s undergone _three_ psychological attacks? Vantika, the Lethean, the simulation with the Founders. Four, if you count the invasion of those entities who were granting everyone’s wishes in the worst ways possible. I think I can handle hearing about things that happened a decade or more ago.”

“Julian. You’re forgetting that in these stories I’m not the victim but the perpetrator. I’m not some plucky officer fighting for freedom or protecting civilians. I’m the soldier, the invader, the _attacker._ ”

“Did you ever torture children?”

“Excuse me?”

“Did you. Ever. Torture. Children.”

“I fail to see how--”

“It’s a simple question, Elim. Adults know the galaxy is a violent place. Adults who go into professions like ours know what they’re getting into, are aware of the risks of capture and what sorts of atrocities might be asked of us. None of us is innocent. But children are different. They don’t volunteer for this. They get dragged along whether they want to be or not. You said once, that you had children in your custody, and that you let them go. Is that true?”

“I said a lot of things that night. I would have said anything to push you away while I was like that. I didn’t want you to see me falling apart.”

“So… it wasn’t true? It didn’t happen, or you kept the children?”

“The Order had rules. Anyone could be questioned, but certain methods were forbidden based upon age. Mild discomforts were permissible for children: withholding water and food, for the most part. Cold rooms. But their testimonies were considered unreliable, mostly worthless. They hardly ever understood what they’d witnessed, and everything they related was filtered through their own immature views of the world. I considered interrogating anyone under the age of twelve to be unprofessional.”

“You still didn’t answer my question. Everyone knows that behind closed doors the rules aren’t always followed. Procedures get… forgotten. Legalities become stretched. Exceptions are made.”

“No, Julian. I believed in the Order, and I followed its directives to the letter. I never caused a child extreme physical distress.”

“Did you ever sexually assault someone?”

“I’ve never understood the distinction, honestly. How could penetrating someone in a place that is designed for it be any different or worse than sliding a knife into perfectly intact skin? Wouldn’t carving a hole be so much more invasive than using one?”

“God, I… I don’t know how to answer that.”

“You look rather pale, my dear. Perhaps we should stop here.”

“No, I want to go through with this. I want to know.”

“Your definition of sexual assault may differ from my own. I did use my body to coerce confessions, and under the guise of being someone else, feigning feelings I did not have. I believe that under the Federation’s broad definition, sexual intercourse through the use of dishonesty can be classified as rape.”

“It’s a gray area. But I think you know what I’m asking, Elim.”

“Did I ever cause harm to someone’s reproductive anatomy? Not on purpose. There are times when the subject struggles, and not everything goes according to plan. Limbs escape, instruments slip. Did I ever use my organs to harm someone? No, I did not.”

“Did you ever intentionally kill someone you knew to be innocent?”

“I thought you said no one is truly innocent.”

“ _Again_ , you know what I mean. You knew they weren’t involved, or they didn’t have the information you were after, or they were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Once.”

“What happened?”

“It was, as you said, a man who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He observed a transaction taking place that would have resulted in the promotion of a legate who had no business being in charge of a parking lot, much less a district. He, the man I was interrogating, came from a military family. He saw nothing wrong with it. Central Command and the Obsidian Order… We do not think highly of one another. He was not cooperative. Coarse. Vulgar. Abrasive. He made several remarks about my lineage that I was able to ignore, but when he suggested that I made my way up through the organization by the use of my body, that I slept with Tain in order to be given so much power… The knife that I held to his throat pressed just a little harder. Enough to pass through the skin and open his windpipe. It was a slow death.”

“I… I have a different question. But it’s related. How long did it take? The questioning, I mean, not his death.”

“Four hours.”

“Elim, I’ve been through loads and loads of psychological courses. It’s required of all Starfleet personnel, and even more for doctors. Did you know that, according to psychologists, _committing_ torture is considered a form of torture itself? Because of the way you're forced to change your mental attitudes, to do things you normally wouldn’t, and for extended lengths of time? It causes structural and chemical imbalances in the brain of the torturer that are indistinguishable from those of the victims.”

“I have not heard this, no.”

“One of my teachers said that when a soldier kills the person he captured, it’s not because the prisoner broke, but because the captor did.”

“You’re saying that I killed that man because I broke?”

“I’m saying that everyone has a point in which they can no longer take something. You reached it.”

“I suppose that is… one way of looking at it.”

“Did you know that, according to the Federation, my _own people_ , I’m a monster? A genetic freak. Dangerous, possibly even a ticking timebomb. They’ve got me leashed and under surveillance. I’ll probably never be allowed a posting off of Deep Space Nine. If I were to ever leave Starfleet, I’d likely be just as much an exile as you.”

“My dear, we both know how patently unfair that is. Those genetic enhancements were done _to_ you, and not your own choice.”

“How is that any different than you?”

“I _chose_ to follow orders.”

“If they’re orders, are they really a choice? What would have happened if you didn’t?”

“The same thing that happens to any operative of any covert organization, I suspect. An untimely death, a mysterious disappearance.”

“So wouldn’t you say it was a case of literally ‘kill or be killed?’”

“My dear, I really don’t understand why you insist on trying to excuse my actions. I have behaved reprehensibly, and I do not deserve to be exonerated from the repercussions of my past.”

“I’m not trying to _excuse_ it, or justify anything. I’m just trying to show that I _understand_ . People do terrible things all the time, and for terrible reasons. But… underneath it all, I really don’t think you’re a monster. I think everything you’ve done haunts you, and monsters don’t care. They don’t even bother to remember what they’ve done. Or if they do, it’s to catalogue and admire their accomplishments. You don’t do that. In fact, you’ve done your best to punish yourself for it. Over and over again. And Elim. Monsters don’t _think_ they’re monsters. They believe that what they do to others is completely and utterly deserved. They don’t lose any sleep over it. I _know_ you lose sleep over it. I’ve been there during your flashbacks. The nightmares. I’ve heard what you said, what your subconscious was thinking while you tortured people. You’re no monster.”

“I don’t know if I have the energy to argue this with you any more.”

“Then don’t. Accept the fact that maybe you’re not as bad of a person as you make yourself out to be. You know what I think is the cruelest thing Tain did to you? He had Mila and Tolan raise you. Rather than doing it himself to create an unfeeling automaton, he let you experience family, and love, and philosophy, and-- and _morality_. You developed a conscience. And then he tried to rip it out.”

“You paint such a vivid scene, my dear.”

“You can picture it, because it’s true. You know I’m right, deep down. You don’t want to be evil, and you never did in the first place. It’s time to move on, and let it go.”

“I don’t think I can, Julian. It’s always going to be a part of me, whether I like or not, whether you accept it or not. I will still do whatever is necessary for Cardassia. If I must be a gardener, then I will plant an entire continent’s-worth of crops. If I must be a politician, then I will spend every day and night learning the system of law and balance of power. And if I must be a defender, then I will hunt, capture, and murder to protect my people.”

“This is going to sound crazy, but that is actually one of the things I love about you: your absolute passion and conviction to your ideals. You don’t half-ass anything; you give it your all. Mind, body, and soul. Even the tailoring. I’m still not sure if it was meant to be some form of humiliation or merely your cover, but you’ve made the most of it. Your designs are spectacular.”

“Thank you. I do have some semblance of pride.”

“Hmmph. Some?”

“Perhaps more than a little.”

“That’s another thing I love about you: your humility.”

“I am no doubt the most humble person you know. No one else comes close.”

“Elim?”

“Yes, dear?”

“I _do_ love you.”

“I know. I can’t say I understand it, but I know.”

“Do you think that maybe, someday, you could love me too?”

“It wouldn’t be fair, Julian. To me or to you. If I’m ever given the chance to return to Cardassia, I _will_ take it. And I will leave all of this behind. Even you.”

“Couldn’t you love me anyway? Until then? It sounds to me like a win-win situation. If you never go back, then we’ll have the rest of our lives together. If you _do_ return, then at least we’ll have had _this_ time together, and then the memories after that.”

“You do make a compelling argument, on occasion.”

“I-- I do?”

“It bears reflecting on. I shall take it under advisement. Does that suffice for you?”

“I suppose so. Especially if you allow me to continue supporting my case. I have several more testimonies to present.”

“Could any of them be said in bed...? I’m rather worn out from our discourse.”

“I'll need some time to prepare my main arguments, but I think I could at least make an opening statement.”

“I promise to give it my full attention. And then maybe we can finish your novel.”

“The Princess Bride? That could be a nice way to finish the evening. Something soft and silly to relax with. And I’m really curious what you think of the ending.”

“Why don’t you go ahead and use the refresher, then, and I’ll retrieve the data rod.”

“Oh, would you mind grabbing me a hot cocoa, too?”

“...As you wish.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn’t sure what to rate this. Let me know if you think it ought to be higher than T.


End file.
